


Sleeping Habits of Super Soldiers

by apostapal



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Sappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 10:13:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11895561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apostapal/pseuds/apostapal
Summary: Even heroes need their rest.





	Sleeping Habits of Super Soldiers

**Author's Note:**

> All I want to write rn are cuddles so y'all just have to deal with me.

There was a procedure to sharing a bed with Jack Morrison. Gabriel learned early on that the man was easily unlike any other bedmate he'd ever had.

For starters he snored, loudly. He knew this before their friendship became anything more than playful banter while they both barfed in trash cans after a round of serum shots. It was a majestic sound; like someone trying to start up an ancient car that just wanted the sweet release of death. And rolling him over did nothing.

Not that rolling him over was an option when they slept together. Usually, Gabriel was trapped fully by a tangle of arms and legs within the first few minutes and stayed that way until the alarm went off in the mornings. No getting up to piss or get a drink, no squeezing out of his grasp before morning to go make breakfast. Gabriel just had to stay put and hope Jack’s alarm went off before his bladder exploded. Didn't help trying to wake him was like trying to raise the dead.

Blankets were also subject to scrutiny from Jack Morrison. Gabriel never saw him sleep with more than a thin sheet in winter, summer meant nothing at all. It made some sense; the man put off heat like a furnace. A few times Gabriel worried he must have had a fever but he seemed to just run hot, something that only increased in severity after SEP treatments. So on cold nights Gabriel would simply have to burrito himself in a blanket before sleeping, leaving Jack to coil around him in a tangle of too-warm limbs. On warm nights, they would just sweat. Gabriel just took up showering in the mornings after waking up to Jack sweat-glued to him.

All in all, an outsider would probably see the arrangement as completely inconvenient. But love makes you adaptive. Gabriel Reyes got used to it, even started to like it. By the time they'd gone from green recruits to Strike-Commander Morrison and Blackwatch Commander Reyes he could actually say he genuinely liked it.

Some nights, Jack fell asleep before him. He hauled himself into their apartment on one such night at around 0300 with a headache and stale coffee breath to find Jack snoring, limbs flung oddly and pillows on the floor. Gabriel undressed to the sound, washed up, and grabbed his fleece off the floor before sitting on the edge of the bed next to him.

“Sleeping beauty, wake up.” he murmured, wrapping his blanket around his shoulders and reaching over to rub Jack’s cheek. Fresh shaven and already prickly, one day he'd just convince him to grow a damn beard.

Jack’s face twitched, nose crinkling, but he didn't move. Gabriel leaned over and pressed his lips to his cheek, making exaggerated kissing noises, and felt Jack’s cheek pull with a sleepy smile. He didn't wake up, not really, but he stretched his arms open and Gabriel tucked himself into them, nose smooshed against Jack’s throat. Jack’s arms locked around him instantly, one leg getting haphazardly tossed over his hip, and his snore started up again in seconds. It didn't take Gabriel much longer to fall asleep under the ideal conditions.

* * *

Strike-Commander Morrison’s picture was on another tabloid. Dressed in sweats and toting his luggage into a hotel, caught coming from the airport on some official business. They could have zeroed in on anything, really. His graying and receding hair, his new wedding band (replaced last month after the old one got snatched off with his glove and some of the skin on his knuckles during a mission), laugh lines, softness growing around his middle---anything.

Instead, they'd focused on the item stuffed under his other arm. A body pillow, firm but clearly well napped on and wrapped in a jersey fabric pinstripe cover. The article titles ran the gamut; from ‘Strike-Commander Can’t Sleep Without A Comfort Item?’ (going on to ask what kind of ‘juvenile’ was in charge of Overwatch) to ‘Jack Morrison Possible Pillow Pervert?’ (points for alliteration and how hard Gabriel was going to laugh when he showed him but still a D- in theory).

Jack tossed his tablet at the hotel bed and it landed with a slight ‘puff’ against the too-warm duvet. Of all the stupid shit to get hassled over. He was on a diplomatic mission not some high school overnight trip. He also didn't have Gabriel, which was the whole reason he had the damn pillow.

It had been Gabriel’s idea; he'd gotten it for Jack after hearing how poorly he slept when they were apart. Originally, he'd gotten some off-brand Strike-Team merch cover for it; himself, in an artist’s rendition of a seductive pose. Jack yanked it off immediately, mortified. Gabriel laughed the whole time. But joking aside it had… weirdly helped. It wasn't the perfect substitute for Gabriel’s warm and sleep-pliable form tucked against his chest but it worked in a pinch to mimic his usual sleeping position.

Jack glanced back over at the bed, tablet lighting up with another alter. Sighing, he got up and wandered over to flop sideways onto the bed and grab it, head braced against the pillow. Gabriel; asking if he was up. Jack had barely sent the reply before a video chat call came through. Smiling to himself, he answered.

“Hey sunshine, isn't it late there?” he teased, taking in Gabriel’s drowsy expression and dark background. He looked to be surrounded by pillows in the dim view Jack got, probably in bed. Gabriel nodded in reply to his question and had to stifle a yawn before speaking.

“I can't sleep without my white noise maker.” he drawled. Jack snorted. “Also, it's cold as fuck here.”

Jack offered up a sympathetic little smile. “I'll be back in a few days, promise.” he said, then, “Check the tabloids when you wake up, it'll make you smile.”

Gabriel stifled another yawn, laughing faintly. “What'd you do?”

“Oh,” Jack said, “I didn't do anything.”

They talked until Gabriel fell asleep on the line, cheek smooshed against the pillow, and Jack took a screenshot before ending the call.

* * *

Usually, Commander Reyes didn't sleep much on away missions. If they were in the field he would sometimes doze sitting up or catch a short nap during flights. If they actually had a hotel it was another story, however.

Gabriel figured out the exact number of blankets and pillows it took to feel like he was getting smothered by another super soldier and usually would request the extras upon booking. Hotels didn't really have an issue giving a war hero some extra bedding. And he usually got a room to himself, meaning no one was around to question his weird pillow nest. Sometimes, however, the funding department got a little cheap.

One such occasion, he and Jesse wandered into their room jet lagged and dazed, to find his usual bedding request stacked on one of the two queen size beds in the room. Jesse did a double take when Gabriel dumped his bag on the bed.

“You… ask for those, boss?”

“Yeah.” Gabriel shot him a bland look. “What of it, kid?”

Jesse raised a brow at him. “You gonna play princess and the pea?” he asked.

Gabriel plopped unceremoniously on his bed and went to yanking off his boots. “You tell a damn soul how I sleep, McCree, and the hat is mine.” he replied, casual despite the clear threat.

Jesse blaunched some, one hand shooting to hold his hat to his head, and huffed. “Fine, fine.” he grumbled, moving to drop his bag on the free bed, “Yer secret is safe with me, princess---I mean Commander.”

Gabriel responded by bouncing one of his extra pillows off the back of Jesse’s head, knocking his hat across the room.

* * *

Fifth of whiskey and he still couldn't sleep. Jack stared at the ceiling, vaguely drunk and totally exhausted, and sighed. Shakily, he sat up and grabbed his pack of cigarettes off the ground next to his cot. Laying back down, he lit one and puffed the smoke up toward the ceiling.

Ana had offered him a nicer place to sleep. Maybe a bed, somewhere inside rather than just squished under an overhang. It wouldn't have done anything but make this process more awkward, so he'd politely declined. Besides, he liked being able to catch glimpses of the stars.

He didn't have the luxury of carrying extra bedding. His sleeping bag was usually the most he had some nights, since teaming up with Ana he'd been forced to at least get something up off the ground. She'd thrown a pillow at his head after the first night but it and the thin sheet on the cot both usually ended up on the ground by morning. Sleeping in a sleeping bag had been easier; he could restrict his movement and just lay on his back. Now, he tossed and turned and slept in short, fitful bursts.

He hated sleeping on his side. The absence of anything in his arms hurt too much. The lack of a warm body, mumbling in his sleep and scratching his chest with beard hair. Not waking up in the morning and getting groggily smothered in kisses before his bedmate bolted to the bathroom. All sleeping like that felt like anymore was empty and impossible, so Jack trained himself to sleep on his back.

He smoked his cigarette and snuffed the butt out next to his empty whiskey bottle. It didn't help him sleep but it just about took the edge off. Eventually, he drifted off in a slight daze and dreamt of warmth and softness that was just out of his reach these days. In the morning, it hardly felt like he'd slept at all.

* * *

“I don't sleep.” Reaper told Sombra, hint of a snarl on his voice.

“Weird.” she said, bouncing on her toes, “Must be why you're always so cranky.”

He just sighed and shooed her off, attempting to get back to the mission at hand. She slept most of the night while he stayed up on watch. The mission wasn't very long, he could wait to get back.

Gabriel didn't want to know what Sombra would do with the information of how he slept. Be annoying, mostly. But more worryingly, be curious. Force him to face why he still couldn't sleep unless he was crowded in pillows and blankets, compressed as best as possible and too warm. She'd make him examine why he dreamt of snoring and scratchy stubble and fingers kneading sleepily at his back muscles.

So he waited. Dozed behind his mask when she was sleeping and tried not to think about how much he missed his bed. Or what else he missed.

* * *

“Jack.”

The dream felt so vivid. Like he could just reach out and touch it. Blood, smoke, and agony. It had repeated so many times he could almost tell the whole thing by heart.

“Jack.”

He knew that voice. Knew it in the dark, haunting parts of his mind. Even in the terror, it was home.

“Wake up, Jack.”

His eyes opened but he was still largely blind, dark room and fading vision leaving everything hazy like the dream was. Jack felt a hand rub comfortingly at his chest, just below his collarbone, and tucked himself closer to the soft, blanket wrapped form in his arms. He felt Gabriel shift and sling one arm around his middle, fingers dancing across his bare back soothingly.

“Bad dreams?” he asked. Jack nodded and squished his cheek against the top of Gabriel’s head. “Wanna talk about them?” Jack shook his head so Gabriel went silent.

For a while they just laid there, Jack breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth until he calmed down. Gradually, sleep started to find him again. Gabriel, still rubbing circles on his back, shifted again and roused him some.

“Jack,” he mumbled, sounding half awake, “I gotta piss. Lemme up.”

Defiantly, Jack tucked himself closer. Pulled Gabriel more flush against his chest, chin tucked protectively on top of his head. Gabriel squirmed, grumbling, and shoved halfhearted at his chest.

“Jack.”

“Can't hear you, Jack’s asleep.” he replied, squeezing his eyes shut.

There was a pause, more grumbling, and then Gabriel’s form dissipated in Jack’s arms and left him clutching the blanket the other man was wrapped in. Smoke flowed thickly over the side of the bed and reformed Gabriel standing next to it, arms folded over his chest. Jack looked up at him sulkily from the bed.

“Cheater.” he pouted.

Gabriel shook his head, smile tugging the corners of his mouth, and ducked down to kiss his temple before turning and heading for the bathroom. “You don't get to trap me and my bladder anymore, Jackass.”

Jack rolled away to avoid the light of the bathroom cutting on. When he heard it shut off he rolled back over and held his arms out blindly. Gabriel climbed into them a second later and settled in, tucked under his chin. Coiled around him, sleep came easy for the first time in years. In the morning, Gabriel was still asleep in his arms. And everything felt right.


End file.
